Checking In

Sorry it's been a while since I posted. Did anyone miss me?

I've been working 12-13hr days without a lunch break at this temporary-possibly could become permanant- job I found.

I've been hired for a one-month contract. Whoop-dee-doo. Well, it's better than sitting home I suppose.

The bank is an excellent one, with fantastic benefits. The boss I"m working for is the CEO and he's really a nice fella. My coworkers are nice also. I wouldn't mind being made permanent at all. I wish he would make up his mind. Jeez.

IF working these long hours don't convince him to keep me, then I'm hoping THIS will:

1) The General Manager of the bank took my boss, the CEO, aside and told him frankly that he doesn't need to keep interviewing candidates when the best person for the job is already sitting outside his office. He then told him "Give Cyn a month or so till she learns all the in's and out's of the bank and how it works, and then you see!" And my boss apparently agreed with him.

2) Before this, my boss was asking the GM something and I was pacing outside the open door to tell him some things... one of which was relating to the question he was asking about the religious holiday tomorrow.... I finally butted in and said "But I have the notification from the government offices here attached to a memo I drafted for you to sign (before he got in and knew anything)! (the GM winked at me when my boss turned around and grinned at me in shock) and then he said "well, come on to my office then!" he was shaking his head all the way there and said "How do you do that?" Me: "What?" "him, shaking head and still grinning"That! Did you take a course?" "Me: "Eh? for What?" Him: How is it you know just what I want when I want it or before I know I want it? Did you learn this in a special course or something?" Me" No. No course. It's just the way I am." He smiled and said "well that's great!"

3) A guy named J from AMEX Dubai (I've been talking on the phone to him and emailing to arrange a meeting, etc. He started out all formal, but then by the 3rd email it was HI CYN! He's from Indiana, been in Dubai for 20 years) flew in for a meeting and was having a lunch meeting with the CEO, my boss, gave me a compliment to my boss. He forgot to tell me until later when he called me on his way to the airport tonight to say "Oh, I meant to tell you I recieved a great compliment on you today during my lunch meeting." Me: "Oh really That is nice!" CEO" Yes, J told me how great you are and how professional and curteous and helpful and then he asked me how long you'd been with the bank and I said, "Um, 10 days." to which he replied "WOW! NO WAY! She is really amazing. I would never belive she was new!"then

*blush* I was really flabbergasted. while I was getting over that... he said "That is exactly what I want, someone that also is really great and professional and curteous on the phone and with visitors too! Someone gracious like you!"

Me: (in my head) "Well, duh. HELLO! So how bout keeping me then???"

Does this dude need a lightening bolt from the heavens to strike him to wake up? Good Lord.

So, in case you were all wondring what cave I'd wandered off to, now you know.

OH, and by the way? Here's an Inquisition question answer for you!

The Confession

I had one question this week. My punishment for not posting too much, huh? *pout*

My buddy Cheryl b still loves me, and so asked:

What's your favorite flower and what makes it your fave? Lame, I know, but I really need a nap.

My favorite flowers are the Iris. (I think that was some real poor grammar right there, but I'm too tired to give a damn right now.) Any color of Iris. The deep purple blue or the bright purple or even the paler lavender colored ones. I love them with their yellow centers. They are tall and graceful and so pretty, even though they really don't smell.

I love Irises and fuschia pink or bright yellow roses. Give me those flowers (together! WHOOT!) and I'm a happy girl. I love those colored roses even more than red roses. I prefer them actually. I appreciate red roses for their beauty, but they don't get me all excited if you know what I mean.

I'm weird I guess. But that's me.

Hopefully next week will be better for all of us!

SURPRISE!!!

Y'all will never guess what's up!! Then again, maybe you will.

Got a nice little surprise tonight. Miss Scarlett started giving birth. In the litter box. Z found her with the kitten squalling and hanging out. I had NO IDEA she was due now. Z totally miscalculated her due date.

Oh allright. He convinced me I was wrong. I figured she was about a week or two apart from Angel. Does anyone remember that? Well anyhooo... Miss Scarlett? Wanna see how much she loves her Mama (Me)? She filled my order.

This kitten is RED. Yes. RED. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! I've been wanting a red for 15 years. Yaaah. Whhooooooootttttt. Now? Lets hope it survives. (please GOD)

My girls were apparently listening to my orders! Yaay. I gave them a few options. Angel's little BOY looks like he is going to be a Blue-point Himalayan. Perhaps like this.

I'm willing to take nice suggestions for names. I wanted Lancelot (he's such a big little man), Arianna wanted Arthur (ie: King Arthur) and Z? He said HORRIBLE things like: Batman, Blueballs, etc....

HELP! We are at a loss. Bring em, on dear readers.

Also? My 'boss' the temp one, today said "yeah, while talking to my wife, she said "So when are you going to get an assistant, anyway?" and I said "Oh! I got this really nice young American girl."

Me: Gape mouthed in shock.......

He stares at me and I say finally, with a HUGE GRIN! "THANK YOU! You just made my, week...no, Month, no YEAR!" He gave me the same questioning look but with a smile... and I said "Young? American Girl? BLESS YOU!" and then...... then? I giggled.

I never giggle. Ok, well, I rarely giggle.

Heh. He called me YOUNG. He is exactly 10 years and 4 days older than me. BLESS HIM.

Also? I have an interview at another bank tomorrow afternoon.... 2 floors down from where I'm working in the same building.

When it rains, it pours!

Inquisition Confession – Week 16

My sweet darling readers…..

I'm so brain dead. I've started a temp job for at least a month the other day, but there is the possibility of it becoming permanent if God feels like smiling on me. Don't get me wrong. I'm so happy to be working it isn't even funny. Even though it is so stressful and I'm trying to learn a million things at once. I find pleasure in a job well done. Especially so in that my boss actually knows how to say THANK YOU. (I'll wait while you pick yourselves off the floor…) But still my brain is so deep fried and my whole body….. burns with pain (the size of the office I have to maneuver in is HUGE… I wish I could wear roller skates!) that I've had to type and re-type this sentence more times than I will ever admit to. So What? You may think.

Well, SO.. is that instead of working 7 hr days… I'm working 12 hour days instead. No lunch. Straight through. It is SO BUSY. My brain is fried like KFC. But still? I don't mind all that much. I'm just exhausted is all.

An Update: So far so good for the one remaining fuzzy baby. He/She is eating a lot – ok, constantly- and already the ears are getting dark and some of the fur on the face. YAAAAY! Looks like I might get a blue pointor seal point Himalayan. I am SO keeping this cat. HE is a miniature of it's Daddy, my big boy Maximus.

I suppose I should get right to the Q&A time, shouldn't I? Well….. alrighty then! *wink*

Cheryl b came up with:

This is not THE QUESTION, but when you move back to the states to live on the commune with me and the other ladies will you be able to bring your fur babies out of the country?

Here's THE QUESTION: are there any Bloggers that you have a crush on?

First things first Cheryl. The commune. I've had my bags packed forever. Last I heard you and Carrie Jo were going to come and kidnap me and not ask for ransom. What happened? *sniff, pout* I thought y'all dumped me!

*crickets chirping*

Ok. To your first question's answer. The one that isn't THE QUESTION. SURVEY SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYSSSSSSSSSSSSS………………………

Have cats, will travel. (ditto if I ever get a doggie) My pets are like my AMEX card. (Except I don't have one! An AMEX card, silly!) I brought cats with me when I moved here (Isis and her sister Princess) How many cats can say they had an overnight stay at Paris's EuroDisney? Mine can!

So…… yeah baybeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!! Make sure there is plenty of space for my fuzzy ones on the commune, hmmm? They are awfully friendly, so don't worry.

Now for your REAL question. You know. THE question. *snicker*

Actually, all the ones on my 'blogroll'. A little secret? If I love your blog and read it? I save it in my favorites under "Loved and Adored Blogs".

I don't read just infertility blogs either. I read all sorts of blogs. Mommy Blogs, more Mommy blogs, Daddy blogs, other Daddy blogs,New Daddy-to-be blogs…. Wonderful-women-trying-to-adopt-blogs (aka: mommies in training), New Mommy blogs... women what wonder why the hell can't I do such a normal thing blogs. lovely-ladies- that-crack-my-ass-UP!-and- love-Harry Potter –like-me-and-aren't-afraid-to-admit-it-either blogs, Shoe addicts like me, or purse addicts with adorable puppies and puddytats that make me laugh so hard I almost pee my damn self blogs.

I have 'girl crushes' on two female bloggers: Ollie and Miss Doxie. Ollie is just, amazing, sweet and funny and so talented in ways I could only dream of. The cartoon.. whatever, "Adventures of Hormona…" is excellent and oh, so true. (I wanted to be her sidekick, but she wouldn't listen! *pouts* ) Oh well. At least she likes my Wand Monkey character. Miss Doxie is another one. She Cracks my ass up. Yes, with a capital 'C'. Her drunk posts actually give some other bloggers I know a run for their blog hits. I wish to GOD ABOVE she would post more often. (hint hint Doxie dahling!)

Ask anyone that knows me. I've got a huge capacity for love. Plenty to go around for everyone. I've got a little crush on my readers and BIG OLD CRUSHES on the ones that actually COMMENT on my blog every now and then too! So go on babycakes, crawl into my heart and get comfy. You're gonna be there for a while!

For the record, my blogroll includes so many more than the ones I linked to and it is growing every day… much like "The BLOB".

Now on to my next question from Catrina, who asked, okl her daughter asked……..:

Question: This one is from Jazzy.....Do you see any American soldiers where you live?

Well Jazzy, I sure do honey! Everywhere I turn too! While they are not in uniform but in regular clothes. It's kind of hard to miss them. They are EVERYWHERE. Bahrain is the base for the Navy's 5th fleet and there is a huge ass platoon or three of Marines stationed here also.

It's nice for me, because when I see them or hear them talking when they walk by, it's a little piece of home.

This week Mare asked me a really interesting question that made me look deep within myself.

Ok, here's a real question. Um…hmm…okay. Tell us some things you feel you must absolutely do (or places you must go) before you die.

Thinks I want to do.. HAVE to do or places I must go before I go to my extremely just reward for not offing the wicked witch of the Middle East…….hmmmmmmmm……

I would really like to have another child. Badly. (Duh. Like you all don't already know that! Silly me.) I want to own my own home. I don't particularly care where, as long as I have a place I can call my own so that I don't have to worry about where I will sleep at nights when I get old. IF I get old.

I want to write a book, and if I'm lucky, get my tail published! Actually, I would be happy to break the writer's block I have on the book I've started and have 12 chapters written. That would be nice. Maybe I will get an opportunity to publish my blog in book form. That would be cool. (Or turn it into a series?)

I want to take ballroom dancing and particularly quick-step classes. I want to learn to speak Italian. I would like to swim with dolphins. (I'm really serious here) And I'm determined to do it eventually too, even if I'm 70 or 80 (if I live that long)! And hold/pet a baby tiger or lion- a big cat, get the idea?- and a panda. (I love me some panda's y'all!) Have you ever seen a 'baby-toddler' panda bear? OH MY WORD. ADORABLE.

I want to see Stonehenge even though it is just a pile of rocks. The Pyramids at Giza. These places are awesome in that the people that created them had none of our knowledge, tools and conveniences and yet moved big ass rocks and monoliths over great distances that weighed hundreds of tons. And when they arrived at their destination? They moved them UP. Fascinating. I went to Persopolis in Iran and I was blown away. I went twice during the same trip in fact. It must have been something else before Alexander burned it down. I can only imagine it. I'm sure it was magnificent to behold.

I want to take a tour of castles-preferably exploring on my own, not only those touristy ones- even deserted ones and I plan to spend a night or two in one (the converted to hotel ones, naturally!).

I want to learn to snow ski. I don't know how. Knowing me? I'll probably break both legs. Anyone care to teach me how to ski? Or how to ice-skate even? Do I sound completely lame that I don't know how? *sigh* I want to ride on a Harley. I don't necessarily have to drive it, but at least ride on one.

I always said since I was about 7 years old that wanted to see a Siegfried & Roy show before one of them gets mauled. Damn, I never did get to see one. Does anyone remember when they used to have a show about once a year on TV? I was fascinated by it. The magic was cool, sure, but it was the big cats involved that impressed me. I'll just be you I know exactly how Roy Horn feels now. Those are his babies and, well, shit happens, ya know?

Places I want to go. I MUST go back to Scotland and properly explore. I also have to go to Ireland. MUST GO TO THESE TWO PLACES. Actually, honestly? I wouldn't mind being buried in either place. (I sure as hell don't wanna be buried HERE, that's for DAMN SURE.)

I have always wanted to see St. Petersburg. All over Italy. I want to go to the Caribbean again. I loved it. Preferably on a cruise ship again. I love taking cruises.

I want to see my Nana's house on Long Island, NY once more through my adult's eyes and the pond nearby I used to go with her to feed the ducks. I want to be held in my father's arms one more time and just 'be' for a little while.

How was that Mare? I know, I know, ask a simple question and get a long-ass answer. Well, you know me!

And that my dears brings this weeks' Inquisition to a close. I realize it took forever and a day to get my answers up and for that I humbly apologize. I'd like to suggest, since it is already SATURDAY, that you start giving me your questions from now for this week.



PS: Oh, and by the way? OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD OHMYGODOHMYGOD
OHMYGODOHMYGOD
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD

I just found out that this wonderful blogger is accidentally pregnant-OOPSY!!!!!!!!!-without the nasty ffed up Clomid or anything else horrid. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYY. (It gives idiots like me a shred, a frayed one mind you, but a tiny, itsy bitsy, teeeny weenie bit of hope.)

Congratulations Amy and Jason. I am really and truly happy for you. Much love and may you not fall down any more stairs, cause Amy honey? My name's Scarlett darling… NOT YOU! *Mwah, squishy hug*

Good heavens. Am I the only one NOT knocked up of the blogs I read?

Cat? Carrie Jo? Tag, you're IT!

Update and a Hint

Well, I think I'll just get right to it, shall I?

I started a temporary job that has the possibility of becoming permanent if I'm lucky. I worked an 11 hr day when it was supposed to be from 7:30-3:30. I crawled out of the office at 6:00. The boss is nice and the job, if it were permanent, would be fantastic!

Update on my furry grandchildren: I came home from work, burnt out mentally and with numb fingers (post another time about my first day, because it was freaking HILARIOUS) and found out that my little white runt kitten... was gone.

He-of-the-big-testicles passed away. I have no idea why. Z went to check on them and noticed him off in a seperate corner of the box, gone. He tried to take a page from my book and do CPR, but it didn't work.

That was yesterday. Now today I came home after another super long and hectic day and there was another one gone before I could do anything and a 3rd one not doing too well and barely breathing at all and not moving.

The one that was gone I couldn't do anything for but I started trying to massage the chest just to irritate the hell out of it and make (him) meow and use his lungs, even if he was pissed at me. He stopped breathing all of a sudden and I started my
CPR" on him, and got him breathing again. But he was so very weak (this while I'm listening to the suckling noises coming from the big GIANT fat kitten). This is becoming a habit, isn't it? My CPR on weak kittens. Man! Talk about feeling guilty. I finally go to work, and while I'm not on watch, my furry babies start dropping like flies.

Anyway, I got #3 meowing a bit and grabbing my hand as I cradled him in my palm, and he was breathing a little more steadliy. I just hope he continues to do so. I put him with Angel and she sniffed him and gave him kisses, so I figure if he didn't stand a chance, she would reject him.

Two down, one so-so, and one widdle piggie. *sigh*

Now then. On to my little hint.

Those of you that haven't gotten your questions in yet, even though it is WEDNESDAY (I KNOW, I KNOW!) can get your questions in till midnight tonight.

How's that?

My Quadruplets

Last night Angel went into labor.

I was sitting on the loveseat in my bedroom reading a book and she came and wedged herself in real tightly next to me and half on my lap. I didn't know at the time she was in labor. After a bit I noticed she couldn't seem to get comfortable and was real restless and she is purring non-stop. (she is NOT a purr machine normally) I look down at her and she is staring at me right in my eyes when I notice that at that moment her whiskers pulled together straight in front of her face. "NOW? On ME? Thanks darling!" I jump up and notice that her water for the first kitten has broken...on my cream sofa. I pick her up and gently place her in her birthing box I prepared that she refused to stay put in unless I was sitting next to it, petting her.

She was looking at me and walking around the box and I told her "Look girlie, you are TOO BIG to fit on my lap, have them here. I'm here". She meowed at me, then settled down. Then stood up again. I saw that the first baby was coming out feet first and then Angel started SCREAMING... LOUD. I've never had a cat scream like this before. but in a few minutes the baby was out and so tiny, just like it's grandma Isis. Well, excecpt that the little one has big ole testicles. hah. OBVIOUSLY A BOY. Angel was good and did everything without my help on this one.

30 minutes later at 10:07pm the second baby came out, and this sucker is HUGE and she was tired so I cleaned the sack away from the mouth and nose so it could breathe. That's a freaking HUGE kitten, I tell you. And cream-YAAY!!- But a dark cream, and I think it could end up being a Himalayan. I hope so. Daddy Max is a flame point Himmy(and is pale cream) and I was dying for a tortie Himmy like Max's mama. Fingers crossed. Both of the kittens jumped on the nipples and started nursing immediately. Good, good.

And then...... nothing. So I wait........ and .......... nothing. And I touch her sides and I can feel a kitten on either side still in there in the birth canal, her abdomen still hard and distended with the occasional contraction under my fingers. But......

No baby. And I wait some more. I get fed up waiting and make myself watch 'The Grudge' (hated it) and kept running to check on Angel and.......

Nothin.

2:30am rolls around and frankly, I'm beat. I told her butt goodnight and conked out.

I wake up this morning? FOUR kittens. And they are all ok. and eating. And Angel is curled around her kittens purring, a bloody mess. Poor Angel, I know she doesn't like being dirty. She is pure snow white and enjoys her bath and blowdries, so this is sucky for her.

Yes, I'm sure it is pointless to say that I've already been kissing on the kittens, but, well, I have. 3 cream and the one itty bitty white one. And their fur is a different texture, each from the other. I could just eat em up they are so cute, mewing every now and then. Awwwwwwwww kitties.

One delivery down. Two more to go. Miss Scarlett is next.

Hee hee... I'm a grandma.

Meow!

R.I.P.

I recieved some bad news during a phone call from my Mama this morning. As happy as I was to hear her voice on the other end of the line, I had a feeling it would be bad news.

Mama called to let me know that a very special lady, Ruby, had passed away yesterday (29th). Ironically it was the anniversary of my Mama's mother, my Grandmother Mildred's death also. Even more of a coincidence, Z's father passed away the same day, same year as Grandmother Mildred. You know? I'm disliking this date more and more as the years pass.

Ruby was like a Grandmother of sorts to me. She was supposed to be my step-grandma as my Mom had been with Ruby's eldest son and engaged for ages. Mama and Ruby stayed close, even though the engagement, for whatever reasons, didn't work out and the son and Mama remained friends. Ruby has been a part of my life since I was 17. I can't belive that she is gone.

I really loved Ruby to pieces. She was a real character and lots of fun to be around always with good stories and she and I, when together, would chuckle and she would nudge me with her elbow and lean real close when telling me a particulary juicy part of any story and a cute little smirk on her face. Ruby loved to talk about cooking with me too. She was soft spoken and kind, but didn't take anyone's antics either. She had her limits!

She had been ill and in a nursing home for some time now. At first doctors thought she had Alzheimers, but apparently, she had something similar, but not Alzheimers, yet the memory was affected. Then she had a stroke or two (the most recent earlier this month) and a couple of blood diseases that destroyed her heart and its valves. Mama was seeing her regularly and making sure she had what she needed and was being taken care of properly. She'd go and fix her hair, do a wash and set for her when she could and put on a little makeup for her. I wouldn't want to be one of the nurses or caregivers if Ruby wasn't being treated properly and my Mama found out about it. Nuh-uh.

Poor Ruby had been suffering for a while and even in the end, Mama said she was fighting to live, against the inevitable. Mama was with her, right next to her when Ruby breathed her last and my heart broke and I started balling like an infant when Mama told me that even as she was in her last minutes, Ruby was crying, tears silently running down her cheeks, not wanting to go, even though she was in pain. That's our Ruby, a real fighter, even till the end, the poor darling.

Bless her soul, I thank God that at least she isn't suffering anymore. She is free from the pain and from the morpheine injections that apparently didn't do much of anything for her towards the end. That is some consolation to me and to her children I hope that she is at peace now in a place far better than where she left. My only regret is that she had to suffer at all. Such a wonderful lady deserved to go quietly, painlessly, in her sleep.

Rest in peace, Ruby. We will all miss you, your smiles and that twinkle in your eyes.

The Refill

I have a funny little anecdote to share with y'all today. It is yet another instance of "I HAVE to blog this!!" as I am laughing my tail off and gasping for breath.

This evening Z had our two male friends, A (of the "you shoulda married ME" fame) and P over. They are both so much fun and so very sweet and just the right bit of naughty.

P started the evening off with Heineken and had a few until he decided to switch over to hot tea after eating. This is where my tale begins.

Towards the end of the evening, A and Z were talking off to one side and P was trapped with Monster sitting next to him and me opposite. Now P loves him some hot tea. He drinks TONS of it daily. So, being the good hostess I am, I noticed his teacup was empty. Up I stood, took the teapot in my left hand and stood in front of him and asked him "Would you like a refill?". He didn't answer me right away. In fact, he looked a little dazed and I thought perhaps he didn't hear me,so I asked again. Then I noticed that he heard me sort of, even though his eyes were still kind of glazed over.

How did I know this? Because he moved his teacup towards me… and held it directly under my right breast. And left it there, hovering. I looked down at the teacup and then at his face and I realized he was totally and completely unaware of what he was doing. In fact, I realized then what the glazed look was for: he was still gazing kind of dreamily at my breasts, which were basically eye level with him.

Because it was completely unintentional, I didn't take offense, but instead tried to establish eye contact with him while I started giggling. P then realized what he had done and jerked his hand back and IMMEDIATELY turned the most amazing shade of red. He started stammering an apology and I said, still laughing, "Well, they were there I suppose…" to which he stammered:'Um, tea… yeah tea, please. I'm sorry…." To which I, with my cheeky side fully raring to go said "I'm used to it...Oh, maybe you wanted milk with the tea?"….

I didn't think it was possible for him to get any redder than he was, but he managed a lovely lobster like red while we both dissolved into laughter.

By this time we were both doubled over with laughter and had a very hard time controlling it. He finally did get his tea and I continued the rest of the night asking him with a very naughty twinkle in my eye and a grin on my face:

"You sure you wouldn't like another refill, hon?" to which he would laugh and become pink again. We would both be chuckling and no one else had the slightest clue what we kept laughing at.

During one of these times, I looked at him and said "Don't be surprised to read about yourself on my blog tomorrow, because I HAVE to blog this!!"

Finally, the visit drew to a close and me, not being one to let a sleeping dog lie, gave him a hug goodbye and said "Well, no more refills for tonight at least. Maybe next time!"

I'm a stinker, aren't I? You know you would have done the same.

I'm not being mean. I've had bosses do this too, where I walk in to hand them something and they trail off mid-sentence, trying valiantly to tear their eyes away. I had one boss that never got used to it.

Mind you, I don't flaunt them or even wear very revealing blouses and tops, they are just there and you'd have to be blind not to see them. I'm used to it. But it still tickles me. It's as if grown men have never seen breasts before. Granted, they are some big breasts, but jeez. Come to think of it, my female friends are completely fascinated by them too. I used to get cornered by my female friends and they would poke them like kids poke a bowl of jello.

It really is comic. Instead of drooling over them, or abject fascination, they should feel sorry for me. It's a bitch to drag these things around, believe me. They weigh about 17 lbs combined, give or take a pound or two. I'm not joking. You have no idea how painful it is on the neck, shoulders and upper back to lug them around. I would be happy if I could reduce them to a D cup. *sigh*

Until then, I just have to bear with them and I really have only one thing left to say on this post…….

"Would anyone care for a refill?"

La La

I thought you all might find this mildy amusing. God knows my daughter does.

God Bless Ashlee Simpson's little lip-synching heart. I have her new single "La La" stuck in my head. It is not only stuck in my head.. I am singing it.... out loud. Incessantly. No lip synching for me, oh no! Much to the amusement of my husband and daughter. Am I singing only the chorus "You make me want to La La..."? Aw Hell no. Of course not! This is ME here people! Its more along the lines of....

"You make me want to La La, in the kitchen on the floor, I'll be your French Maid, when I greet you at the door, I'm like an alley cat, drink the milk up I want more... you make me wanna.... you make me wanna..... Scream.".

Heh.

Yeah darlings, ALL that I sing, over and over again... out loud.... and more of it too. And it DOES. NOT. STOP. And sometimes? I dance a bit too. My life in musical form. Who ever said musicals are not realistic versions of life? That no one goes through life actually breaking in to song and dance when the mood hits them? I mean, Catrina, come on girl and back me up here... I distinctly remember SEVERAL of us singing and dancing in the back at the restaurant we worked at when I was in college. For the hell of it and because we damn well felt like it. So yeah, it does really happen in real life.

So 'They', whomever they might be,(the ones that said that crapola about musicals) were obviously high on something because it is so very obviously not true. I'd like to walk right up to them and say......

"You make me wanna LA LA in the kitchen on the floor......."

Inquisition Confession – Week 15

Well my darling blog readers, welcome to another Inquisition week and the answers you seek to the questions that burn your collective brains to a crisp. You've all been visiting over and over to see if I posted the answers, didn't you? Waiting with baited breath so to speak, eh?

Okay, maybe not, but let me have a happy thought, hmmm? I could use all the happy thoughts I can get, you know?

It would seem that my darling and beautiful daughter Arianna created a monster this week with most of the questions as most of them are animation/cartoon related save one. That is fine by me! It turns out that Ari's simple statement/question/suggestion/Direct ORDER about me letting y'all know my favorite Disney Princess turned into a poll or meme of sorts. That's ALL good. I like it! I like it. I get to know a little something about you all while I spill my guts.

Well, on to the good stuff.

Cheryl b. asked me:

I'm going to guess Cinderella (evil stepmother-evil MIL, it's all the same). Tell Ari that my fave is Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Mark just got me a Belle porcelain doll dressed like a ballerina. I'm so not a girly girl but I love me some Disney princesses.

Question time! What animated character do you find attractive?.

Weeeel sugar, the animated character I find most attractive is…:

Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. He is hot. Until he opens his mouth, that is. He just needs a personality transplant. But that guy is good eye candy. Gorgeous. The Beast, when he becomes human is pretty cute too, but that Gaston? Num num.

Carrie Jo, in keeping with the animation theme asked:

What is your all-time favorite cartoon character and why?

I love me some Bugs Bunny. I adore Bugs Bunny. I really REALLY do. Bugs is so damn cute, awfully smart, sarcastic as shit, and is absolutely adorable. I also love it when Bugs dresses up in drag, especially as Carmen Miranda. It cracks my ass up. Yes, Bugs is a renaissance bunny!!

Grown woman that I am, and having seen every single Bugs Bunny episode evah countless times, I will STILL sit down and watch that scrrewy wabbit and laugh my tail off.

Mare asked me:

Do you prefer pantyhose, thigh highs, knee highs, or garter belts and stockings?

oh and if we're taking a poll, my favorite Disney Princess is Princess Aurora from Sleeping Beauty. I love that movie. Unfortunately all her merchandise has her in a pink dress and I'm of the "make it blue" persuasion.

Well, practically speaking, I usually use pantyhose but, on special occasions have been known to use garter belts and stockings. But for everyday?? Pantyhose.

I love thigh highs, but, they are a bit uncomfortable because I have quite curvy/ muscular thighs from all those years of dance classes. It's that grippy thing I think on the insides. My skin is pretty sensitive too, so that grippy stuff doesn’t' go over too well.

A little sekrit? I absolutely adore black seamed stockings or hose. Love em.

A little funny fact: I heard once about a study that was done on female drivers that wear pantyhose vs. ladies that wear garter belts and stockings. Interestingly enough, the garter belt/stocking wearers were better drivers.

I wonder what MAN thought up THAT study?? Hahaha.

Now, for my favorite Disney Princess… Cheryl B guessed it. My favorite STORY is Cinderella. Ever since I was a little thing I loved that story. Princess Aurora is my second favorite Princess. (Ari's favorite is Aurora also like Mare "Make it Blue" persuasion as am I.) Our favorite scene is the war of the wands over what color to make the dress. It's a crack up. My MIL laughs just like Maleficent, by the way! Bwahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaa.

For the record… the Princess that gets on my LAST DAMN NERVE is Snow White. The Dwarves, I love, but Snow White? Can you say nails on chalkboard? Ari (who is reading over my shoulder as I type)said that her Grandmonster looks suspiciously like the person in Snow White that offers her the poisoned apple.

Hey! I didn't say it, I'm just repeating!!

Thank you ladies that asked me questions this week. Until my next post, I bid you all farewell!

The End

Three Strikes...

When you read the title of this post, I bet you thought baseball. Well, I'm NOT going to talk about baseball. It has nothing to do with baseball in fact and more to do with a type of Karma. (since I refuse to say clumsiness!)

See, the weekend has been particularly bountiful in the curses hurled at my head by you-know-who. (How about we call her Voldemort? Haha. You Harry Potter fans will get a kick out of that, I bet!) I have not the slightest idea why the upsurge in vehment curses, but an upsurge there was. In fact, the curses and screaming and all within feet of me, at me, made me almost come []this close to losing my temper. (that would be U-G-L-Y) Somehow I managed to hold on to it. I know that if I flipped my lid, it would be a major incident with EVERYONE coming down on my ass and I frankly wasn't in the mood for it. (ok, them)

Tonight a number of things happened to me in a very short amount of time.

First thing: I went into the Kitchen with the intention to get something from the pantry. I walk up to the closed double door of the pantry, right hand on doorknob, left hand in center of doors to push open and BANG, I push the door open and it shuts on the pad of my left hand ring finger pinching the hell out of it. Well, I've gotten my finger pinched in any number of ways and I didn't think I'd done anything to it. In the second it took me to pull my hand back and flip it over for a look, there was blood POURING FROM IT IN BIG FAT RED DROPS. We are talking instant gusher. It hurt(s) like a sonofabitch too. Still. Off I run to wash it clean and patch myself up with a Band-aid and some Neosporin ointment. It bled for a while and still hurts like hell.

Please forgive any screwed up spelling on this post, as it hurts to type.

Second thing: decide to sit on the sofa with a nice cup of tea and my polar fleece blanket and watch some TV with the hubby. Only, he is in the shower. Never mind that. I brought our tea out and placed it on the cofffe table. I thought I'd sit and do some needlework while I waited for him to finish and so, as I stood, I took my blanket in hand and turned to sit down. Somehow a corner of my EXTREMELY lightweight blanket knocked over my FULL teacup ON TO THE FLOOR, where it bounced on the TILE and onto MY PERSIAN CARPET. (Did I mention that this is my favorite Persian carpet of the three I own?? No? Well, it IS! I love it. It is a Tabriz style and done in a majority of light and bright colors and is 60% silk. The background in the center of it is pale CREAM. Yes, hot milky tea with some sugar in it being dumped on it freaked me the hell out. I didn't care that there was tea everywhere, including UNDER the (also) cream sofa, or on my blanket, or anything else. I was freaked thinking that the tea would stain the carpet irreparably (I was most concerned about the areas where colors were cream, pale blue/aqua and a very pale pastel salmon color). Tea stains like a motherfucker.

Off to the kitchen for an obscene amount of dry and wet towels to mop and clean the mess up. Picture me on all fours, tail in the air, cursing under my breath and unable to use much of the left hand for scrubbing since it still hurts like hell from thing no 1, so slight whimpering when the injury is accidently pressed or touched, soaking up tea and mopping and scrubbing gently the carpet.

Carpet seems all right now, but a big ass portion of it is damp, so, I will know more when it dries. *prays*

Third thing: I still wanted tea dammit and I had a nice thermal teapot flask thingie full, so what did I do? I rinsed out my teacup and refilled that sucker. Uh huh. I promptly noticed the tea POURING OUT THE BOTTOM OF IT. Yeah. More fucking tea all over the damn place and no, the cursing is not so much under my breath anymore, ok? Turns out the cup has a crack in the bottom CORNER of it. Well shit. This is part of a set, dammit. Into the trash it goes. More tea clean up. I kinda lost the tea urge after that, you know what I mean?

Three strikes and I'm out, right? So, my ass should be safe for a little bit right? Maybe I should stay in bed just to be safe?

Anything is possible. I mean, jeez. Angel is due to have her kittens in 3 days, her tummy hasn't dropped yet, and she is stuck to me like glue. I walk, she walks, I sit,she sits. I take a shower, she watches. (Oh wait, that's not new!) I think, bless her little (little HAH! LITTLE MY cute ass!) butt, that she has decided to have her kittens under my headboard. Again. I hate when she does that. As is, she's on my "list" today for what she did to my breakfast.

Turns out fuzzy mama likes peanut butter. I had a cinnamon rasin bagel with peanut butter.... I turned my head for a second, looked back and found her going to town licking the peanut butter from the bagel. Cow. Heh. She ate the half she had attacked, bagel, rasins and all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As a little reminder if you want to play my weekly Inquisition, please leave or email me a question. I already have one from my daughter who seems to think it is imperative that you all know who is my favorite fairytale princess. (You know, the Disney girls). Yeah, I'm actually going to answer that on my blog to save my ass from her nagging.

I'll give you a freeebie answer early. Like now.

Mayo or Mustard on sandwiches?: Mayo on all sandwiches, not mustard with one little exception: Ham. I like mustard on ham sandwiches, but then again, I don't remember the last time I had a ham sandwich.....

Everything you can think of on a hamburger (make that cheesburger, please) Mustard, mayo, ketchup, secret sauce, whatever.. and everything (ketchup, mustard, e-z relish, onions and/or chili) BUT sauerkraut on a hot dog.

Well hell, I've got the munchies now!

Rain and Rambling

I find that suddenly, sitting here in front of my monitor, hands in position on the keyboard (yes, I type properly!), I have completely forgotten what I had planned on writing about. It was actually going to be a good post. It just kind of… went on vacation I suppose. Wish I could go on vacation. Heh.

Well, when I am at 'War' with life, or trying to work out the best strategy regardless of the particularly crappy hand I've been dealt, whatever the case may be, I tend to do that every now and then. You know, misplace my thoughts. Stress does effect my concentration in the worst way sometimes which really irritates me more than you can imagine. I usually have a frightfully sharp memory; so much so that a number of very dear people that know me very well say my mind is like a steel trap. Even taking that into consideration, why I am surprised about my brilliant (ha!) posts' departure from my mind is completely beyond me. Things are kind of messed up at present.

Perhaps it is the soothing sound of rain falling outside that made my thoughts drift away. The rain is a bit heavy tonight and it is so nice to hear. I've always loved the sound of rain and, well moving water in general. We don't usually get a great deal of rain here- not more than four or five days a year- so this year is a real exception to the 'rule', so to speak and I'm enjoying it for what it's worth.

I was over at the triplets' house when it started. Thankfully I had a big scarf with me to throw over my head, but to be honest? I didn't drape it all that carefully on the way back to my house walking. It was kind of nice feeling the fat raindrops hitting my nose, wetting my lips and eyelashes. I was frankly more concerned about slipping and falling flat on my backside than getting a little wet in the rain the length of time it would take me to walk down the street two houses. Scarlett fall go boom! No. Not if I can help it.

To think that this time last year I had such hope and a bright outlook for the future. I was trying to get over yet another IVF failure, yet busily planning another try, try number 3. I was busily praying to God above that it would work THIS time. Little did I know it wouldn't and IVF 4 would be cancelled after weeks of hell and hope! In the back of my mind, I plan for IVF 5 when better days arrive and things are more stable. Well, I suppose I am nothing if not tenacious. It helps me survive to go on. Well that and, I suppose, the ticking of my biological clock.

Its funny that Z and I both started new jobs, GOOD jobs with great salaries, benefits and excellent potential (or so we thought) within a month or so of each other last year. Both offers were dropped unexpectedly in our laps. I wasn't looking for a job, I was quite content where I was. The salary could have been better, but it was balanced out by a fantastic boss. The new job offer for me was a 62% salary increase with benefits and annual guaranteed bonus with great working hours. I mean make a pro & con list… its pretty obvious I should give it a shot, and so I did. The new boss was a friend of my fantastic boss and literally stole me from him. Six months later they decided to phase out my position entirely in order to cut corners due to upcoming complete privatization. As an expatriate worker (and the only westerner), I was completely expendable, obviously.

What is funny is that that was almost the exact same reason Z has lost his 'new' job.

I've been looking for jobs ever since. The market for Western women in my field is up and down. I have worked my ass off for the last 13 years or so to reach the senior level and gain the experience I have. Now? Now I hear I'm OVERQUALIFIED. *gag, retch* Give a girl a damn break, willya?

Even so, I figured with a little time (hopefully not TOO MUCH) and patience I would find a good job for myself. Thankfully Z was working and had a good job. I didn't have to worry about a roof over my head or food for my child too much. We could manage and squeeze by even without my salary somehow for the time being.

Then on December 16 we found out about the government loan for the house. WOW! I thought perhaps this was the sign I was waiting for. Even without me working, we could still find and get a house. A house was a real goal for both of us. It is one of the many reasons we moved here. For a fresh start.

Three weeks later I find out Z has been given 30 days notice at work and for basically the same reason I had been let go! Talk about feeling like your world is crashing down! Ok, maybe despair is more like it.

We will get back on our feet again, eventually. I'm like a cat that way. Hopefully sooner than later. But sometimes I feel like I've used up waaaaay too many of my 9 lives!

Not that I don't have hopes. I do. If you lose all of your hope, you die. If you don't have dreams, you have nothing. Even if you attain dreams and goals, they need to be replaced by others. I also know that friends – true friends - are as valuable as pure gold or the most flawless and rare of diamonds. Perhaps worth even more. You also find out who your real friends are when you are down, at your lowest point.

I have found this out – painfully – the hard way… several times.

There are people I truly believed to be genuine friends that, when the chips were down, were incommunicado quicker than you could blink. This is doubly painful for me as I pride myself on being a very good and accurate judge of character and the few times I misjudge really bothers me.

It pisses me off too. I don't give my true friendship so easily. I do make friends easily or acquaintances, but true friends? It depends on what I see of the person because when I give my love and loyalty to someone and they are my friend, they are in my heart, and that is IT. I am always there for them if they need me, even if only to make them smile for a minute or two. If I don't come through for someone when they need me, then it was physically impossible for me to do so. I am never too busy for someone if they truly need me, even if only for a little chat or they need someone to listen or advice. I make the time.

In my book friends are friends through thick and thin, through good and bad, rich or poor. A friendship is like a marriage. It is give and take. Not all give on one side and take on the other. It's a damn shame not everyone believes that.

It bothers me when I am judged based on what others might say (same is true for my whole Monster situation when she talks also!) about me without knowing the truth, or at least both sides of things. I tend to confront. I like to get to the bottom of things. And I know when I've been backstabbed, also. I can feel it. If I hear that someone has said this or that, I tend to go to the person and ask why they felt the need to say that. It is interesting to watch people try and squirm and lie their way out of their troublemaking and compounding their lies when confronted with the proof of their actions. I've been accused every now and then of not being genuine in my actions because of how I am by people that are not like me at all. That is just.... lame.

Z tells me sometimes that my problem is expecting of others what I expect of myself. I hate to admit it, but maybe he is right. He also says I forgive too easily, I'm way too nice and giving and I give second chances when they are probably not deserved.

He is probably right about that too. But I just can't bring myself to be a cold asshole. It isn't who I am. I am loyal to those I love and am extremely protective of the people that fall into that category. If you hurt someone I care for, you have just made an enemy of me for life. I'm a helper. I'm a giver. I forgive. But I'm NOT a doormat. I do have my limits.

It doesn't make it hurt any less though.

Perhaps he says that because that is the code he lives by. If someone burns him, watch out. (Catrina knows him and can vouch for what I say!) He doesn't believe in second chances (unless it's giving his blood family a 300th chance. But that's neither here nor there) On his enemy list is a place I would never want to be. He can be devious and vicious in the extreme when he is out for revenge. Hence my nickname for him of Stealth Bomber. He comes in under the radar when you least expect it, and you don't even realize he's dropped the bomb of his revenge on you till it's on your head!

But that is not me. Perhaps my Mama said it best: "My girl is happiest when she is making others around her happy, and she has been that way ever since she was a little child. If she cares for you, you can expect 200% all the time from her and she is happy to give it, gladly. Because if you are happy, she is happy."

That's not such a bad way to be, is it?

I think I'll go listen to the rain a little more and let it hopefully lull me to sleep. I could use some proper sleep.

Good Night.

Feels SO Good

I spent an interesting afternoon with a darling, wonderful male that made my heart sing today.

He is so charming and irresistible with an imploring smile I couldn't refuse, so I did as he so obviously wanted and took him in my arms. He insisted on being right next to me and didn't want to share me at all… with anyone. He gave me those 'sad puppy' eyes until he had me all to himself. Who can resist that, I ask you? I certainly can't, that's for sure!

So there I sat on the sofa, sometimes touching his face, others stroking his soft and silky black hair. For a time, I thought he would be content just to be so close to me as I was content with him held so close to my body, but no. As with most of his sex, it was just the beginning, sort of.

He slowly pulled back ever so slightly, looked in my eyes and smiled. Then he slid down a bit and rested his head on my chest. I couldn't help but smile at this to myself. Next thing I knew, he turned his head and buried his face in my cleavage after having slightly tugged aside my v-neck sweater so that he could rest his face against my skin. It seemed as if he was memorizing the scent of my skin. Every so often he would pull back, stare at my face with the sweetest smile, gaze into my eyes searchingly, then lay back down and adjust his position on my breasts. Sometimes he would rest his cheek there, skin to skin and look off into space, deep in his own thoughts. Occasionally he would sigh contentedly

He certainly seemed at peace resting his head just above my heart, relaxed and pliant and I wondered what his thoughts were even as his wandering hands had already moved from touching my hair and stroking my arms to finally slip inside my sweater's neckline just to rest there on the curve of my breast. We lay like this for at least a half an hour content and peaceful with me occasionally leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

Laying like this with him made me ache for something I'm afraid I might never be able to have, yet that didn't make me enjoy this time any less.

For someone that has had such a rough time of things lately, (one of my best friends in the whole world has jokingly referred to my life at present as a War) I find that I have to snatch moments of happiness wherever I can find them.

Today I found such a moment of happiness with my 7-month old nephew Khalid, the only boy of the triplets I love so much it hurts my soul, nestled in my arms, head resting against my breasts, sighing every now and then and rubbing his footsie clad feet against me softly, listening to my heartbeat for a time.

This time with Khalid was stolen time because his sister Talya demanded her own time and is very territorial with me. I am HERS and she doesn't like to share. I had them almost all to myself since the triplets parents are gone for a week with their big sister aged 3.

I must admit one thing about him. If he is this charming and such a ladies man at 7 months, what in the hell will he be like at 17? At 27?

Oh never mind, I'll just enjoy my time with him and his two sisters while I can and pray that someday soon, when my 'war' with life has finally come to a time of Peace, that I will be able to hold my own little son or daughter (or both if I ended up with twins!) in my arms as much as I want and shower the love I have to give on my own child.

Until then, I must remember to repeat to myself regularly :"Patience is a virtue and will be rewarded".

*Sigh*

Sharing Is Caring

Or so I've been told. What it comes down to is this:

What I saw watching TV last night just HAS to be shared with my readers. Full stop.

See, I had heard that such a thing existed from a fellow blogger on her blog, but honestly? You have to hear, or in my case, see it, to believe it. Actually, in my case, I read about it first a couple of months ago, but couldn't really decided if it was a joke or not, then last week I HEARD it on the local radio station and was, well, astounded. So last night was the final nail in the coffin for me.

See, last night while innocently channel surfing through my collection of music channels (I love the Italian ones best!) on the satellite dish, I saw William Shatner's -that's Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship USS Enterprise or T.J. Hooker for those of you scratching your heads in confusion- new music video. *screams:"My Eyes!!! MY EYES!!!!!!"*

Yeah. A video. For a song. (sorta) It's kind of beatnik jazz and he is basically reciting poetry over it, but still. Dude has a record out, it is getting AIRPLAY on local radio in the middle of nowhere (ie: where I live) and..... AND the video (zzzzZZZZzzzZzZzzzzZZZZZ) is getting airplay on European music channels. Just so you know, his single is called "It Hasn't Happened" and my hearing is yet intact.

While watching the video like a deer caught in the headlights with the most STUPID look on my face I am QUITE sure, I noticed something that kind of tickled me. The woman singing in the background of what was actually fairly decent music ruined by the drone of Captain Kirk, well, the woman.. it sounded JUST LIKE the 'singing' on the themesong to Star Trek. I'm serious. hahahahhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Just thinking about my realizing that cracks me up.

What I still can't belive is that my nice and reliable (and frankly? Most often are damn gorgeous too!) Italian VJ's, who usually play such a fantastic broad range of GOOD (keyword here people: GOOD) music stooped to playing this.

If it were German VJ's or DJ's, then I could totally understand. I mean come ON! The German music loving public dies, absolutely DIES for David Hasselhoff. (I have seen record stores in Germany in person, and I tell the truth. Rows upon rows of David Hasselhoff CD's. His concerts Sell out in minutes. Google it if you don't belive me. Go on.)

First Knight Rider and then Captian Kirk. Who the hell is next, The Terminator? Maybe J.R. Ewing.

Good Lord above. It is sad beyond belief.

Has anyone else heard this? Don't let me suffer alone.. .please!

Inquisition Confession – Week 14

Welcome one, welcome all.

I will cut to the chase today, hmmm? I mean, Catrina sounded hungry if you ask me because she asked this:

Question: Do you know how to cook samboosa?

Funny thing you should ask me that. I was making cheese samboosas last night! Also I made vegetable ones. It's funny because I don't make them all that often so imagine my surprise when I read your question, hmmm? They weren't those big ass Punjabi ones that are HUGE or anything, but the regular small ones.

So, yeah babe, I sure do. And Cat? You just HAD to ask me that samboosa question, didn't you? (private joke)

Now on to Cheryl b. This is probably the hardest question you've ever nailed me with my dear. You know that? Jeez.

Cheryl asked me:

Tell us about the animal that you have loved the most in your life. Not your favorite type of animal, but your favorite animal specifically.

I honestly thought long and hard on this question because that is like asking a mother to choose her favorite child. I love and have loved all of my animals for different reasons. Each one is really like a person; different in their own way with their own unique personalities. So, as I was thinking on your question, Cheryl, I realized I really can't pick just one. If you look at it like this, I have had about 50-60 kids in my life at least. (Yeah, I have a great capacity for love)

To help explain why such high numbers, Z and I were Persian cat breeders back home. We had a lot of kittens come and go. I am also extremely possessive of my 'things'. We stopped with the breeding part of it because, well frankly, I can't keep them ALL, you know? Even though I wanted to and we were always disagreeing on who to keep and who to sell. Not good. I have a soft heart and would cry when they left, Z on the other hand is not so soft hearted like I am.

All that being said. I will narrow it down to the most dear off the top of my head, hmmm? That would be Heidi and Princess. Dog and cat respectively.

I don't think I have ever adored and loved a dog like my mom's (ok, and mine, sorta, but really? Mama's) red short-haired mini-Dachshund , Heidi. She is a beautiful and elegant and extremely intelligent little lady, that Heidi-deidi. (Yea yeah, that's my nickname for her) Mama got her my senior year of High School as a puppy. Heidi is the first dog I actually lived with full time and Heidi and I were and are close.
Mom got another doxie a few years later, a boy, Otto, and while he is cute and sweet and all? I don't love him like I do Heidi. I love him, but, not like that.

Heidi and I are so close. When I was pregnant with Arianna Mom got really sick and was in and out of hospitals a lot. Heidi, if Mama wasn't around, refused to eat or drink. Twice a day I had to go over to Mama's while she was in the hospital and feed her and let her out to go potty or take her for a walk. Otto? He will eat ANYTIME. But not Heidi. I would go over and I could hear he whimpering from the sidewalk as I came up the driveway walking.

As my tummy got bigger as my pregnancy advanced, Heidi would come up on the sofa next to me and rest her chin on my stomach and just stare at me and make that special noise (like a sigh and whimper all rolled in one) that she only made for me and mama when she was happy. I would laugh because there poor Heidi was resting with me and Arianna would kick her so I would watch her head bounce up and down.

When Arianna was born Heidi became obsessed with her. She would go apeshit whenever I brought her over and do happy dances all over the place….. until Otto tried to prance over and say hello. Then she would beat his ass all over the living room then stand guard in front of Ari's carrier growling at him until he got the hint that "This baby is MINE!!! (ROWWRRRRR) Piss off pipsqueak and Don't come near her!". Otto, being the doofus he is, kept on trying.. and kept on getting his poor ass beaten by Heidi.

If Heidi wasn't around Ari and she cried for any reason, that dog would race hell for leather barking till she reached Ari and jump up and check her while waiting for us to jump like trained seals. She looked concerned about the crying, not irritated. Arianna had inherited her own little watchdog.

Heidi is still alive but almost completely grey now. And you know what? If I talk to her on the phone or she smells my scent on something I've sent my Mom? She still makes that "I love you" noise she makes for me.

The same school year we got Heidi, about 6 months earlier I was given a cat Mama named Princess. This was my first cat in about 8 years. I was given Princess by my then-but-not-for-long boyfriend, Bill. Bill got on my last damn nerve (and Mama's too, for the record) and the best thing about Bill was the cat he gave me.

He took me to pick her up from her mother and siblings. Princess was the ONLY black and white cat in a litter of 7 cats. Everyone else AND the mama were grey tabby cats.

I adored Princess and so did Mama, who had insisted for YEARS "NO PETS!" Mom named her, I tried names, but she answered to Princess and so she was named.
This cat and I were inseparable. What I loved about Princess? Was that she was a real talker. She was also frighteningly smart. She knew where her food was kept and every morning, we would find that she had swung the cabinet door open like "hint hint sukahs!" She would wait in my bedroom window for me to come home, meowing her soft meow maow through the glass, then be meowing for me waiting at the door the second my key hit the lock, walking alongside me all the way through the house with her steady stream of conversation.

Every night, we had routine, too. I would get in bed, and then it was cuddle time. She would come and lay between my arm and body and make 'paddycake' for at least a HALF AN HOUR and saying softly, in almost a whisper 'maow maooow" till we both conked out.

When I got married, mama couldn't bear to lose me and Princess in one go, (and Z didn't really like Princess anyway because she wasn't a pedigree cat), so mama kept Princess with her.

Princess never forgave me for that. I would go visit EVERY SINGLE DAY and when she saw me, she would literally turn her back on me and ignore me. She wouldn't let me hold her much either. She was never the same. Sometimes she would sneak up behind me on the sofa and sit, but never like we were before.

It broke my heart.

Perhaps what is the most endearing or ironic is that my Princess developed Ovarian Cysts… just like ME. Yeah, Princess was infertile too. Poor cat would go into a full heat (I mean calling and pedaling and backing up on anything she could, including YOUR ANKLE, a chair leg, ANYTHING-I don't do that tho, for the record!)once a month, every month until we diagnosed her, tried to get her pregnant with a male cat, but it didn't work, and we finally got her spayed.

Even stranger? Is that Heidi has developed Mama's same exact heart problem. (And it isn't very common, either). Every day Mama and Heidi take their heart medication.

Weird, huh?

This week Mare asked me a multi-level question all related to the same thing because, well, she missed out last week, she says:

What do you think about strip clubs? Have you ever been to one for either sex? What do you think about husbands/s.o.'s going, getting lap dances, etc. Would you go to a strip club with an s.o. where women were stripping?

I don't usually consider or thing about strip clubs, actually. I've never been to an actual strip club for either sex, per se. Although, as mentioned in last weeks Inquisition by Catrina, we were at a dance club where gay men would get up on a stage and dance, but it wasn't a real strip club and I was with Z, for whatever that was worth. I'd probably have fun at a Chippendale's type place though if I went with some girlfriends, although I wouldn't necessarily be one to suggest going. (I don't think I would be one of those shrieking types though! That's just not me.)

Don't think I'd be too comfortable going to a strip club with a s.o. where women were stripping or giving lap dances but I guess it's better than having him go by himself and wondering what the hell went on, isn't it? I'm not really one for sharing my 'toys' though, if that's any indication?

I mean, I'd much rather be giving my s.o. the lap dance myself! And yes, I would SO do that!!

Thank you all for reading through my sometimes rather long-winded answers to the quesitons some of you seek.

Until my next post, I bid you all adieu.

A Revelation

Oh yes indeedy. I understand it so clearly now.

I totally and completely get something that I didn't understand before.

See, during my Jerry Springer viewing, I've noticed that some of the audience members, the females, instead of asking a question, ask Jerry if they can go touch -rub-Steve's head.

Steve is a BIG Bald Security guy, for those of you that don't watch it.

Steve always lets them come up and rub his baldness. I just didn't get it.

Until tonight.

Tonight, my friends came over, the guys, one of which -A-was in Phuket when the Tsunami hit last month. It was the first time I had seen him since he returned. I was so happy to see him home safe and sound I gave him a HUGE squeezy hug and a bunch of kisses on his face. For the record, A is bald as an egg. Naturally. I think naturally bald might be different. Anyhow, this guy is one of Z's best friends since childhood and I'm super comfortable with him. He is the guy that ever since he met me almost 10 years ago has said fairly regularly "Divorce this asshole *motions to Z* and marry ME instead!" , always remembers my birthday and takes us out for it or anniversary dinners,or gives me Birthday cards or Christmas cards adressed to "My beautiful wife, love, your second husband-A". He's funny that way. (My Mom knows him too and loves him to bits!)

So, as the night progresses, and we are all sitting talking and whatnot... I'm sitting next to him and I look over at him and I say, "Hon, I've just GOT to do this!" and then I reach over and rubbed the top of his bald head.

For the record? Soft as a baby's butt. Has anyone ever stroked the bridge of a cat's nose? It's softer. Just like a baby's butt or cheek (face).

I did it twice more later on. I couldn't resist. He just chuckled.

Curious little thing, aren't I? To quote my favorite TV character EVER, Samantha Stevens (Bewitched)......

"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Sweet and Satisfying

Some things make you think to yourself "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

You all know I love critters in general and my cats in particular. (Yes, this includes the cats in the yard that have decided I'm their adoptive Mama and stand on the stairs meowing for me) Normally, I wouldn't balk about this, but damn people!! I have had a damn migrane for DAYS now, so bad that I am constantly nauseated. (So bad in fact, that I was gagging/retching in my sleep this morning when Z sprayed on his cologne before heading out the door. Yes, he yet lives.... but it was a near thing.)

For the record, I would just like to point out that when you have a migrane and not feeling too hot in general, plus a sick child that you are carting back and forth to the doctor for injections, it would be a really good idea to somehow manage to disabuse your spouse of the notion that RIGHT NOW some of the cats have to get bathed. Not later.. but NOW. (Not that it worked for me or anything. I just thought it would be nice of me to try to help others.)

Why you may ask? Because, when MY husband gets it in his head to do so, that means that maybe he might wash them (with your assistance, naturally) that translates to ME DOING THE BLOWDRY in addition to helping out with the bath to ensure the cats survive it. (he is heavy handed and forgets that they are, OH, Pregnant.). And yes, they must be blowdried. Long hair not dried properly = tangles from hell + damn cold temps = sick cats= hi vet bills. No ffing thank you.

So yeah, we washed and blowdried a couple of cats last night. Thanksforasking.

Fortunately, I talked him out of all 5 in one shot and down to the two most pregnant instead. Angel was pretty bad off. Whew. Angel is all happy she is clean now, strutting around with her tail held high when not flopping in the middle of my persian carpets for an impromptu grooming session or nap. (A proud one she is. She loves baths! Weirdo.) and Scarlett? Well, she's all clean and fluffy too, but wasn't particulary thrilled with the whole experience. Well! I had a program on Henry VIII to watch so rushed him through it and that was my excuse for only two! Jeez. (btw, the program on Hallmark channel was EXCELLENT!5 stars+!)

Then, I couldn't take seeing Max and Sigfreid, my boys, kinda messed up in comparison, so today? I tackled them. Max? Looks like a TEDDY BEAR. He is roughly the size and WEIGHT of a Cocker Spaniel. It's muscle, not fat. Sigi was a nightmare as USUAL but he looks so cute and clean. Isis is left for a bath, but I am not insane NOR do I have a death wish. When I told Z today that I left Isis for him, he had one reply. "Oh. SHIT." Heh. Vengence is mine for the migrane torture yesterday. HA!

SO. I mentioned that Angel, aka Homeland Security, is very happy to be all clean and fluffy. She is also HUGELY PREGNANT. We are talking GINORMOUS HERE PEOPLE! Hell and she isn't due until around the 28th of this month by our calculation. Ie: gonna get bigger folks! And? She was stuck to Arianna like glue tonight. She knows when Ari doesn't feel well. Even last night. Ari left her blanket on the sofa and went to sleep in her room. Angel came and hopped up, sniffed the blanket, curled up next to it with her head on it and purred loud and hard till she passed out.

Anyway, Ari came to watch tv with us tonight and Angel followed and hopped up next to her on the sofa for a cuddle. Next thing I know, Angel is half sprawled across Ari's lap just staring at her! This is really something to see, when poor Angel is SO DAMN BIG that when she lays on her side, her tummy looks like a mountain of white fur and her big butterscotch eyes show that she is.... weary. Ari was initially petting her head which was cute. But then? I watched my daughter slowly, tentatively, and gently stroke down Angel's most likely sore-as-hell back and rest her hand on her distended tummy.

What was beautiful was the look of wonder and joy on my baby's face when she felt the kittens move against her palm. I know just how she felt. Even me, at 33, *shudder*when I feel the kittens move against my hand or watch her tummy bounce moves me. The look of awe on Arianna's face was something else. Poor Angel just layed there, half on Ari's lap staring at her upside down until something on TV caught her intrest (yes, the cat loves TV.), then back to Ari again.

I'm glad that I have taught Arianna a love of animals.Z likes some animals also, but only pedigree ones. Me? I just love critters, and thankfully, so does my baby. She has no fear of big dogs either (like her dad). She brazenly walked right up and started petting a HUGE English Mastiff at a house we were looking at last week. (Ok. Well, right after I started petting him. I guess she figured he didn't rip my arm off yet, so he was ok!) In fact, he followed us everywhere and ended up flopping on the floor on Ari's feet for a belly scratch.

She didn't like the house at all.... but asked if we could have the dog instead. Heh. That's my girl.

Quarantine

My house should be under quarantine, I think. What began as a nasty attack of allergies and sinus last week for Arianna and I, first went away, so we thought, and has come back in other ways with a vengeance.

I've just been fighting one of my famous migraines for days now-oh yaay- and I've got really severe nausea and, well, let's just say I'm waiting for things to run their course. Ugh. The worst part of it all, for me, is the pain in my head even when I sleep. And the pain in my stomach also. It is decidedly unpleasant. But that is nothing compared with my poor baby.

Poor Arianna has the nastiest hacking cough. I took her to her pediatrician this afternoon after she came home from school. She adores this man to pieces. He loves her to bits too. He was so very busy and was about to go home for the day but I called his cell when his nurses told me on the office phone that he was too busy to see her. Hah. Bullshit. So I called him directly and told him she wasn't feeling well and he told me to bring her right away. You would think those nurses would know me better by now, wouldn't you?

We went and waited… and waited… the waiting room was PACKED with parents and children.. lots of sick children. They took her temp… nothing. Good. The weighed her… she's gained weight. Her height? Has shot up in the last two months or so quite a bit. Finally Doc H got to see her.

The visit started off like it usually does and has since she was 4…. With them giving each other a big hug and him kissing her head. Then, up onto the table where he discovered that her little sinus and allergy problems have gone into very bad laryngitis and a chest infection.

This man is genius. He, in under 2 minutes, talked her in to getting 3 days antibiotic injections instead of taking it orally for a week, starting today. Bless him, he didn't tell her he was going to give her TWO injections today only, one antibiotic and one for the throat swelling which was causing the pain.

He doled out double the candy he does for other patients, because she is his pet, and gave her a massive balloon. More hugs and the like ensued as a goodbye. I wandered off to the pharmacy and then went to hunt down Priscilla to give her the injection. Perhaps you will remember Prissy from my earlier posts during my IVF tries? She gives a good injection, she does. Prissy and Sheila are the only ones Ari will let near her butt with a needle, and frankly? I don't blame her one bit.

Injections given and now it was time for my heart attack. We don't presently have medical insurance (sob, scream) which is really bad considering how much Ari and I use it here. The monthly payment for both of us to have private medical insurance with NO co-pay and full hospitalization costs covered if and when needed is only a tiny bit more than the bill for just today was. (This was my argument for keeping it when Z let it lapse 6 months ago without my knowledge at the time. Payment per month is only about 20 bucks more per month than one visit for ONE OF US including meds and NOT including any lab work or x-rays. So, insurance just kinda makes sense, ya know? ) Did he listen? Um, no. So therefore my coronary today would be caused by the BILL to be paid in Cash. Like, now. It was the equivalent of $240.00. On the bright side, if I keeled over, at least I was in a hospital, right? Heh.

Well, Arianna already her breathing sounds better due to that antihistamine injection she had and I'm just waiting for it to conk her out for a nice long sleep. Then?

Then Mama Cyn is going to grab a cat or two, go curl up in the fetal position on my wonderful snuggly bed in a pitch dark room while my head throbs and eventually explodes. Well either my head or my stomach will explode. It's anyone's guess which will go first.

Daddy Z can do observation duty on Ari while I whimper in the dark. I'm outta here for now.

PS: If y'all want to think up any questions now for this weeks Inquisition, be my guest!

An Observation or Two

While watching Catwoman with Z, he made a couple of comments. One in particular, several times.

During Sharon Stone's scenes, he kept saying "She looks so much like Mom" (my Mama, NOT HIS!) And really, she does, from the neck up. My Mama is a slightly older version of Sharon. Finally I looked at him, grinned, and said "Honestly honey, how many men can say their Mother-in-law looks like Sharon Stone?"

Z's reply? "I knowwwwwwww!" with a cheeky grin.

His other observation pertained to Ms. Berry's walk when in her Catwoman getup. Espscially in the final scenes of the film. Z said "Look! She's doing your walk!" Yeah. She was. That is my natural walk, that sashay thing she does in that black leather. I've had that walk since I was very small. It's genetic, that walk. My Dad has it too. It's a bit disconcerting on a man 6'3 but on a woman, it's nice.

I was wondering when Z would get around to noticing her doing my walk. Heh.

Guilty Pleasure

I think it's time I admitted to another guilty pleasure.

I'm a closet Jerry Springer fan.

Come to think of it, I've just announced it on the internet now, so I guess I'm not in the closet about my love of Jerry's show any more, now am I?

Before anyone says anything about it being staged or what not... I don't belive that it's all real, although I do belive that many of the situations DO exist in the world. I don't give a rats ass if it's staged or not. I like it for it's entertainment value. You know.... stuff like this:

Well, this lesbian was pissed at her girlfriend being a slacker and not working, then hanging out with this BULLDYKE named BUBBA while she is out slaving away working her tail off at work to support said girlfriend. BUBBA!!!!!! What a name. HAAAA as if THAT wasn't funny enough?So, she was pissed that Bubba is eating all her food when she's at work and whatnot.. particulary her potato chips... (this is SO REDNECK DYKES ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY!!Mind you I have nothin against lesbians whatsoever. But this? Is something else.) so... then it comes out the bubba is bangin the girlfriend while she is at work AND eating the food. The hard working lover is really pissed about Bubba eating her food. Almost more than she's upset about her doing other stuff. She kept on bitching about the food, then the sex and cheating in her own house, then back to the food-on and on about the damn food, and the chips, dammit; and then JERRY, BLESS HIM, says: "So? Are you more upset about the eating or the cheating?" then walks off and mutters under his breath" Although it's basically the same thing, now isn't it?"

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaahahahahahahhaahahahahahaaaaaaaaa!!!!!! Jerry!! Jerry!! Jerry!!!!

The audience comments are prime also. It's all for a chuckle. What makes me howl with laughter is when the women attack each other and yank the wigs off and then you see a wig go flying into the audience. Funny.

I mean, Jerry's program is a crack up, and I take a break from watching Discovery Civilizations, CNN,Discovery Channel, The History Channel, E! (for my celebrity gossip! Another guilty pleasure) etc..for a good laugh.

You all already know about my obsession with Survivor, so, add this to the pot.

Jerry is even MORE dear to me now. When I moved here from the States, Jerry wasn't shown here. I couldn't get my mitts on it until a few months ago. (Thank you SHOWTIME!) Now, every night, I can get my Jerry fix.

Oh, there was Rikki Lake, Maury, Montel, and I have Oprah. But no Jerry. Now I have JERRY!

What the hell. It's better than looking at monster's antics.

Y'all still love me a wee bit?

Inquisition Confession – Week 13

Sorry it's taken me a while to post my answers. I'm in a bit of shock today. All right, a lot of shock, actually.

Z lost his job today. They are closing the branch he works in and have decided to do away with that department overall. His last day is Feb 15. No, you are all NOT imagining, we are BOTH without work now.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

So they said "Bye bye" today. The fockers. I've a second interview somewhere tomorrow. Let's see what comes of it.

On to 'more important' matters that I can actually do something about, like, my BLOG and satisfying my darling readers curiosity!

Well I recieved quite tame questions for a change this week. Surprising and refreshing. Let me cut right to them, hmmm?

Cheryl b asked me:

What is your favorite book and why?

My goodness, I don't know how to choose a favorite book. I love to read so much.

But, you make me choose, so, probably Pride and Prejudice or Emma by Jane Austen.

I not only like her books, but I also like Jane's life story and the story behind them. She wrote her books and was published in a time when women did not write published books. It was a man's world. Ooooh, I sound all feminist, don't I?

I love period movies and books, so these really got me but good. She writes with humor, even if it is sometimes underlying and her characters are real (I bet just like some people you know) and could be people from today instead of 120+ years ago.

The author of Bridget Jones Diary, for instance, took inspiration from Austen's heroines, I heard her say in an interview.

By the way, I like Little Women also.

A more modern author I really adore is Diana Gabaldon. She writes historical fiction and, God bless her, publishes HUGE, I mean FAT-ASS books. She is a sucker for detail, and I love me some detail.

Mare asked me:

What is your favorite kitten story?

Much the same ones that you said, Mare. I've had up to 26 kittens of various ages at once, and I love watching them play together.

One would have to be Isis' littermate sister, Princess a Black and white. she was always naughty, and in the apartment we had at the time, right before we moved to Bahrain, we had corner windows. One corner of the living room was all windows, so the curtains were sortof an L-shape. Z and I were watching TV, it was Christmas time, because the tree was up and Isis had been attacking the tree and swiping a santa decoration I had hanging with a cotton beard and strutting around with it like a fresh kill, we would take it from her, and put it higher where she couldn't reach, and she was taking flying leaps at one point. After 8 times, I gave up and hid santa alltogether.

So anyway, from the corner of my eye, I see movement up high. I look up and see Princess has climbed the curtain and is running along the curtain rod from one wall to another and back again. She was about 6 weeks old at this point. Then she did a kamikaze dive bomb off the rail when she realized she was caught.... right onto me.

Catrina, my pal asked me:

Did you get as sick here in the states as you do over there? If not, I think you should move back for health reasons.

Isn't my friend adorable y'all? She wants me back home. I feel all loved, missed and wanted now. SMOOCHY CATRINA.

Well Cat, no, I didn't get as sick back home as I do here. Not by a long shot. (or close shot for that matter) Back home I used to maybe catch the flu once or twice a year, and that was it. I did develop allergies during my pregnancy with Arianna that have stuck with me ever since, but other than that, nope.

When certain members of Z's family remark that I'm always sick, ("must be the cats") and I get pissed off I say, (In my head) "Give me a fucking break, and kiss my ass while you're at it" and out loud: "Well, I've had animals, cats in particular, my whole life, it's not that. Coincidentally, I am the sickest I've ever been since I moved here, so perhaps I'm allergic to Bahrain?"

And a question from Carrie Jo that arrived a tad bit late last week and one for this week too, cause, well, because I want to answer both, so there!

Last weeks: Who were your famous people crushes in middle/high school?

Aha…. Good one. Let's see now. I had massive, I mean MASSIVE crushes on Elvis, John Travolta and Rock Hudson since I was about 8 or 9.

As I got older, ok, well, a little bit older, when I hit about 11 is when I discovered Duran Duran.. and more importantly Simon Le Bon and John Taylor from Duran. Simon is and was No 1 and John, No 2 in my book. Still are for that matter.

I was so bad, (still am actually) in fact, that if you simply say "Duran Duran" or "Simon" in front of my Mom, she will cringe. In fact, I am still amazed at myself that when I met Simon those COUPLE OF TIMES, that I managed to be all cool and collected. I always have been with celebrities, but jeez! Simon? That was some serious lust I was carrying around for years! I also managed to not jump his bod. It was a near thing. Then? I met his younger brother, Jonathan. Who is just as hot as Simon, TALLER, and hee, sings just as good, if not better.. He is a real charmer. Rowrrrrrrr.

I also liked Adam Ant. Poor guy. He's lost his mind I hear. Shame,that. He was awfully sexy. I guess I'm a sucker for tight leather pants.

I'm a very loyal person and once I give my love and/or loyalty, you really have to screw me over big time to lose it. They've been good boys all and therefore still have my undying love.

Well, except for Elvis who went and died on me. I still watch Elvis movies though. It drives Z nuts. Turns out Rock was gay, and then he went and died on me too. At least Mr. Travolta is still around and adorable.

I seem to recall a bit of a crush on John Stamos also. He is still gorgeous.

This weeks' question: What makes you so freaked out by these sweet little creatures (and reptiles too, for that matter)?

Lizards. Well, when I was little in Florida, some jumped on me and freaked me the hell out, I was all traumatized. They are the kind that look like mini-alligators, what we had in South Florida. Tiny little bastards.

I've NEVER liked snakes. Ever. But for some freaky reason, snakes love me. This is not a good thing in my book. See, I always wanted to have a pet mongoose. THAT is how much I don't like them.

In school, even in High School, teachers would bring live snakes in to class for Life Science and walk around with them on their arms. The snakes were singularly uninterested in my classmates, but each and every time they got within sniffing distance of me, it was time to stretch off teacher's arm and say hello to Cyn! Every. Single. Time. Maybe because I am very warm blooded? I don't know. I backed away from them so fast it was hilarious.

That and there was a poisonous snake coming through the tall grass in our backyard towards Mama and I as she was hanging laundry that we didn't see when I was about, 4 or so. All of a sudden, I see my cat, Tiger-shin came flying through the air and going apeshit and doing flips and pounces about 2 ft or so from us. Tiger-shin killed it and dragged its lifeless body to us to show off, then drug it off behind the shed. Dad was all happy with Tiger that day when he got home and saw the snake. Tiger-shin was a very spoiled and loved cat from that day on, even more than before.

Growing up in a house that had a canal waaaaaaay back on the property with a thick 20 ft high chain link fence separating it from us, I was taught a healthy fear and understanding of alligators and crocodiles.

If it redeems me in your eyes, I have discovered a love of turtles. A friend of mine had a particularly flirtatious one in her house that liked me and always tried to get out of his bowl to me. I liked him a lot. I touched him even. So there! Oh wait. That's an amphibian, isn't it? Well, damn.

Well, to quote Porky Pig..... dib bdiiib dib bdiiiiib bdibbb bdiiiiiibbbbbb, that's all folks!

Say WHAAAAAAAT?

I just read something on the internet. Again. Where I usually go, on CNN.com, bless their informative hearts. About rats being bilingual.

What the hell?

Rats? Bilingual? There are HUMANS that can't manage to be bilingual, but rats are? That.is.just. wrong.

But beyond my shock at this amazing find is the thought that rolled through my head next….

What genius decided to SEE IF RATS COULD BE BILINGUAL? Well, His name is Juan, for starters. Imagine the lab conversation between two scientists, hmmm? Juan says: "Hey Jorge! I've been thinking…. I wonder if Mickey, this little rat here, or Speedy, the other one, could possibly be bilingual. I've got 62 other male rats we could play with right over here! Why don't we actually DO A STUDY? Wouldn't that be so damn cool?"

Jorge replies: "Yes Juan, just as soon as I take another hit of CRACK, lets do a study to see if they communicate in different languages. I mean, who needs to find a cure for AIDS or Cancer anyway? Let's check out the rats communication skills! YEEAH!"

Juan: "How about we try, oh say, Dutch and Japanese?"
Jorge: "Muy Bien AMIGO!"

And they went on to do scientific studies of the male rats. (Why no females, fellas?) Look at what they did:


The rats were trained to respond to either Dutch or Japanese using food as a reward

Well, DUH! HELLO???????????? These were ADULT MALE RATS. OF course you could get them to respond for food as a reward. It probably would have worked just as well if you had also showed them rat porn or PLAYRAT as a reward. Give me a break.

Next they will probably check the females and reward them with, oh I don't know, shoes? Pretty jewelry? Very expensive handbags? (Hee heee)

Isn't it nice to know that rats are ranked right up there with humans and monkeys?

Actually, it's kind of depressing.


I suppose next they will say Lizards are bilingual too. Ugh.

Nag, Nag, NAG!

Happy Monday to you all! Yeah, I know, 'Happy Monday my ass!' many of you are probably thinking, since it's your first workday of the week. Still, be glad you HAVE a job, hmmm?

Don't worry, I'm sure I will come up with some zinger posts about work once, if ever, I am gainfully employed again. This unemployed stuff is driving me up a damn wall, is what.

Patience. Or as I heard recently... "Luck is when you have planned in advance for an opportunity that presents itself to you.", or something to that effect. Uh-huh. Since I'm an almost OCD-level planner type person, that little bit of wisdom really struck a chord with me.

For example, I plan to eventually fancy up my blog. You know, go all out and hire some fantastic designers like MOXIE to do something for me and get my own domain name because I absolutely adore their work. I have planned so much that I have detailed ideas about column titles and sections and design ideas written out by hand.

See what I mean? OCD level planner. So. On that note, it is time for a wee bit of nagging.....

because you have until the sun rises on the Pacific Coast tomorrow (that would be Tuesday for the inebriated, heavily medicated, or hung over) to get your darling question in to me.

ME! ME! ME! ME!!!!!!!!!!

I'm nagging at you why? Because I did a vewy baaaad thing. (Elmer Fudd voice) It seems that I missed celebrating De-lurking day! For shame. Frankly? I DO give a damn. So it's Happy Belated De-lurking day here at Scarlett's Haven. Knock yourselves out.

So. A question. Pretty much anything you can come up with. (oooh. I'm kinda skeered.*shudder, twitch*) It can be simple or complex. Innocent or, well, dirty. I mean, jeez, I got asked for a p*nis story last week! Heh. Y'all are funny.

Bring it on! I can take it. I think.


PS: I'm feeling better today, although? The throat is getting to me every now and then and sometimes I am sounding like Demi Moore with a sore throat and I'm still a wee bit congested, but otherwise, fine. *knocks on wood*

PPS: PSA: If you have not seen "Without A Paddle" , please go rent it and prepare to laugh your tail off. If you like comedies, that is. Its. Hilarious. (I couldn't stop saying SCOTTY DOOOO! through the whole movie though.)

The Midwife

I was thinking today about my three pregnant cats.

Yeah. All three are in various stages of pregnancy. It appears that Max has been a very busy guy lately, doesn't it? Between impregnating the females and getting into increasingly more violent Alpha Male fights with his full grown son (Bad move Max. YOU have no front claws, Sigfried? Does. As Max unfortunately found out quite badly last night with a huge gushing blood gash under his chin last night.), I’m surprised he even has energy to groom himself as well and often as he does. Well, I imagine it is easier to groom his HUGE BUTT since his son has snatched him half bald, but still! Sadly, I will have to find a good home for Sigi, cause it is just getting TOO violent. Everyday is becoming a bloodbath here.

I'm thinking, by the looks of Angel, aka: Homeland Security, she looks like she easily has 5 in there and looks like she has maybe 2 more weeks or so to go. Well, hell. Scarlett? (The cat, not me! Don't I wish?), she should be due in 5 weeks or so. She's tiny like her MIA mom yesterday Isis. So, maybe she will only have two like her mom.

Either way, that is one huge load of kittens. (Good thing I love the little critters, isn't it?) A good friend of mine calls me "Ellie May"(Beverly Hillbillies, remember?) for a lark.

That means I had better get my stuff ready, since I usually deliver them. See, I’m a cat midwife of sorts.

Persian cats are usually quite lazy when it comes to birthing their young. They can get them out just fine, but sometimes, the whole cleaning the sac off the babies faces or cutting the cord kind of slips their mind, so that’s where I come in. If that sac isn't cleaned off quickly after birth, they suffocate.

I clean em up if mama isn’t doing it and cut the cord and everything, then put them near her tummy to get a bite to eat.

My cats are so very close to me, they usually wait until I am around. Rarely have I had a cat deliver a litter when I was not at home. In fact, Isis's mother, Cozette, did not like her delivery bed I made all special for her, was in early labor, and prowling my room while I was in bed, reading late at night. I had no idea she was in labor until she hopped on the bed and laid on my lap. I felt shaking on my legs and I thought she was purring awfully hard. I look over my book and notice that she has gotten a kitten half delivered ON ME. )Oh wonderful. Needless to say, I stuck her butt in that birthing bed anyway, and by then, she didn't give a damn as long as I was stroking her head while she was delivering them, one by one.

I love that they are so close to me that they even let me pick the babies up and handle them. I've had cats that come get me and try to get me to follow them, and when I do, they take me to their babies, look at me, lick their 'lips' , look back at the babies, and then go eat and go do their bathroom business while I 'babysit'. If I try and leave the kids, we go through the whole thing all over again, but usually with much meowing on mama cat's part, cause I have pissed her off, apparently.

Once, Velvet, my first female Persian cat, was pregnant same time as her daughters. (Much like now) they delivered the same week. What freaked me out is that she would go to her daughter's boxes, jump in one so her daughter could go eat and go potty, and curl up with her grandkids while her own new kittens slept. Sometimes she would even suckle them. It freaked me the hell out each time she did it. She was the sweetest, daintiest little thing…. With the deep meow of a tomcat. Heh.

I'm curious what kind of kittens I will get this time. Sometimes, it's like a rainbow. But since they all went and got knocked up at virtually the same time, I decided to have a little talk with them and make 'requests' of each based on the possibility of what they can have. It's only fair. Tell you what! I will probably need help finding names, so as they are born, I will describe each litter for you and you all can help me find some fab names, okay? (Seven Dwarfs names not applicable ok wise guys?)

I mean Isis actually listened to me last time *wink* and I got Miss Scarlett, my Tabby Calico. (I'm not being vain. Arianna named her that!) What the hell, it won't hurt.

I hope to God that I get a job soon, because I am going to have a lot of mouths to feed in the very near future!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From Bad to…..

Worse, I think. Well, in some ways.

A medical update. I. Still feel kind of crappy, but in completely different ways. Great, huh?

Fever.. I think under control. Achy-ness, gone pretty much. Congestion/Sneezing/allergies/blocked ear/general Sinus infection crap? Still here, but less somewhat. But as of this morning? I think I am on the road to being truly screwed up.

See, my ENT told me on Wednesday that my sinuses were infected (which explains the hellish pressure and pain in my ears nicely, doesn't it?) and he gave me a shitload of antibiotics to help combat it from going to my throat and vocal cords and voice box.

I think the infection has hit both places overnight last night because when I woke up? My throat was swollen and extremely painful. Other than that, a good way for me to tell on my own is to try and sing. If I have pain when I sing, I know the infection has reached that area, because it lessens my range considerably. * La la la la la la laaaaaaa*(Well, that and I sound like a singing frog, but anyway..) I also feel like I am choking and suffocating on the phlegm that I can't seem to bring all out, painful as it is. It is a bit scary.

At least some of it is clearing up while other things are acting up. Whee. I found a bright side.

I think I'll blame Isis on the throat thing since I was out looking for her furry ass till 4 am last night in the cold because she went AWOL when monster 'accidentally' left the front door open, so Isis decided to take off because she is sneaky that way, the little hussy. Usually she comes when I call her but last night? Nothing. I was really worried about her. So Isis, that bitch, decided to go gallivant out around Lord knows where on the COLDEST NIGHT IN BAHRAIN, dammit. Plus wind chill. Brrrrrrrrrrrrr. Then late this afternoon, I left the kitchen door open for a bit in case she got hungry and wanted to come home, and all of a sudden, she strolls on in. I SO told her little self off…….as I was hugging and kissing her head and telling her not to make me worry. She was looking at me, and then, gently pressed her little paw to my cheek twice almost like an apology.

So then this morning? Throat. Yeah, Isis. It's all your fault, cat.


A little reminder, or my weekly nag as some of you might call it. But. Well, I just want to remind you about, well, you know, any little question you might want to ask of me for The Inquisition get it in before the sun rises on the West Coast of the U.S. on Tuesday. I will get Cheryl B's late question in this weeks answers. But if she wants to give me another, be my guest.